Honeybees

Slick black, cover,
words slide off the page,
to shake my mother,
by the knees,
my grandpa used to put them in a jar,
those honeybees,
A can of worms,
and happy birthday dear,
put them back in one by one,
pat down the earth,
and wipe away your tears,
they can smell your fear,
those honeybees
She was a rose,
handled by those,
She was a rose,
handled by those



The sweetness,
at the bottom of a cup,
that wasn’t stirred enough,
before you served it up,
bitter, bitter right until the end,
you should warn your friends,
about honeybees
She was a rose,
handled by those,
She was a rose,
handled by those...
So easy to bend,
but not to put them back again,
it was so easy to bend,
but not to put them back again...